November 17, 2000
Author's Note: This was one of the more interesting English assignments. Take a news story and transform it into a two-page story from three different unique point of views. I was confined by the rules (Only two pages when double-spaced?!?) but I think it came out well.
Ah soared through de clouds, happy to be where Ah was. Ah had always loved to fly in de clouds, ever since mah pa flew through de skies wit' me. Ah enjoyed mahself so much, Ah let mah mind wander. Ah thought mostly 'bout mah girlfriend. Her name is Stacey. Tomorrow will be September 14, her birthday. Ah have a surprise party planned.
Anyway, Ah looked aroun', takin' notice o' de clear clouds. "Good," Ah mumbled to no one but mahself. "Clear flyin' today."
Ah turned the plane Ah was flyin', like it was all mah own. Ah saw to mah left that a storm had been brewin' behind me where Ah couldn't see it. Storms are sneak li'l tings, dey are. It ruined mah thoughts o' smooth sailin', it did.
Soon, a true storm had brewed itself up. Ah had no choice but to fly blindly on. Rain splattered against de win'shiel as bright streaks of lightnin' flashed violently through de sky.
Ah'm not quite sure what happened next. Ah tink a German plane shot straight outta de clouds. Ah turned up and away, but the Germans seemed ta reflect mah moves. Ah wish we hadn't hit. Ah'd be a hero, Ah would. Ah can see de headlines now, "Young Pilot Saves Plane Crew." It didn't work out dat way though. Mah wing hit de German's wing, ripping them off. That moment seemed to go in slow motion. I tink dat's what dey call it. The sound sent a shiver down mah spine.
Dis li'l accident caused our planes to go down in corkscrews. We landed in water. Dere was a big crash an' a splash when we landed. As de plane sank Ah felt paralyzed. Maybe it was de cold, maybe it was de screamin' o' de crew. Ah dunno what happened. Ah was kinda outta it. Ah was tinkin' about my girlfrien' an' mah family an' everyting else Ah'd be leavin' behind.
As Ah remembered so many tings about mah life, Ah felt a burning sensation in my throat. Ah prayed silently as water poured down mah throat. De last ting Ah heared before Ah blacked out was cursin' an' "The door is jammed! We can't get out!"
I sailed the boat through the water. We had sailed to one of my favorite boating spots in the South Atlantic. I felt the refreshing ocean spray upon my face. Ah, this was the life. I gradually slowed down until I could put it in a halt.
Leaving the steering wheel, I walked onto the deck. American scientists were scurrying around the deck, consulting with their German counterparts. They were collaborating to find some planes, I think. It seemed like they wanted to raise the Titanic, though.
One of the scientists was working on touching up one of their machines, a submarine of some sort. Along it's side were the letters MEV. The scientists told me it stood for Marine Exploration Vehicle. I stood and watched. At least, I think it was Marine Exploration Vehicle. Anyway, I opened my mouth to start a conversation. I hate these awkward situations. "Is this the right place?" I asked.
The scientists glanced at a computer, then at me. "Should be." There was an unsteady silence. Obviously my attempts at conversation had failed. "Hey y'all" he shouted. "We're ready to launch her!" The scientist flipped a switch on MEV.
I felt a sudden pulse of life go through me. I scanned my surroundings, analyzing data. November 14. Full battery. Some people lifted me over the side of a boat, plunging me into water.
I allowed myself to sink to 2500 feet, where I turned on the propellers. Around a depth 2600 I found the planes. I moved to the nearest one and entered through a broken window. A wire trailed behind me, detailing my every move and all my surroundings to the surface.
My computer analyzed the surroundings. C5 military cargo plane. Inoperable. Life scan: 8%. A quick scan around the plane and I saw the life. A school of fish swims away as my lights flash onto them, and I redo the test. Life scan: 0%. I swam around inside the plane, analyzing positions of objects, people, the cargo and debris.
The seats were torn in the plane, and bodies floated around the interior aimlessly. One man seemed to be stuck grasping the door. I could not move, my computer could not access the command required to perform that specific action. I watched the bodies float for a moment more before I could explore further.
I headed back to the cockpit, taking it in. I felt inclined to reach down with my mechanical arm, and I grabbed the plane's black box. Which is, oddly enough, orange.
I moved to the chair. A limp body lay strapped down. Clumsily, I unlatched a buckle and held the man up. He was tall and well-built, with patches of his crew cut missing. He had numerous cuts and bruises. He was very pale. He had been knocked around a lot. My optical eye would not move, leaving me to stare at the body. I analyzed it, matching the face with the database of those on the plane.
Name: Samuel John Guthrie
I took the body and headed to the surface. I would be back for more soon.